A Complicated Sort of Situation
by Broken Gold
Summary: Rose Weasley was sure that this Christmas was going to be a nightmare. Scorpius/Rose, Draco/Astoria.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Look, Nicole, I wrote one first! –marks What I Want List- **

**Prologue**

Draco sat under a large maple tree on the ground of Malfoy manner staring intently at the clear, gurgling stream in front of him and tapping his raven feather quill against his parchment impatiently. _Nothing_.

"Merlin," Draco muttered under his breath. He leaned back into the tree and closed his eyes. "Perhaps I should just give up."

"Give up on what?" The small, delicate voice startled him and he leapt to his feet, dropping his things and splattering ink onto the grass. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh," said Draco. "Astoria. What are you doing out here?"

Astoria tucked a lock of her curly chocolate brown hair behind her ear and shrugged. "Daphne was being unpleasant and I really didn't want to listen to our mothers going at it again."

"They're fighting?" asked Draco as he pulled out his wand. "_Evanesco_," he muttered and the black liquid that was staining the grass disappeared. "Here," he said sitting back down and patting the newly cleaned spot, "have a seat."

"Thanks," said Astoria. She knelt down in the grass and carefully smoothed out her white skirts. "And yes, they are fighting," she paused and then added as an afterthought, "Again. I don't know why they still bother trying to have civil get-togethers." She laughed quietly to herself and rested her head on Draco's shoulder. He stiffened a little bit, but didn't move away.

"What are they fighting about?" He asked focusing on anything other than the fact that Astoria's hair smelled like strawberries. Again. He glanced down at his parchment. He really wasn't going to be starting on that novel today.

"Oh the usual," said Astoria airily. "The final battle, the Dark Lord, your mother betraying the Dark Lord," she looked up at him with twinkling blue eyes and a small smirk on her face. "What a place of honor in the history books, Mr. Malfoy," she said. "Son of the woman who directly aided in the downfall of the most evil wizard known to man."

"We played our parts too," Draco reminded her.

"Of course we did," she patted his blonde head patronizingly. "You saved the Patil twins from Mulciber and I was forced to hide in the common room when you'd found out I stayed to fight." She shook her head. "How very heroic of you."

"I did _not _make you hide in the common room," said Draco.

"Yes you did," said Astoria. "I wanted to fight the Death Eaters like the rest of the Ravenclaws and _you_ found out and sent me to hide in your dungeons."

"Why on earth didn't your mother disown you?"

"For what?" asked Astoria. "Having muggleborn friends, or convincing you to fight on Harry Potter's side?"

"You are ridiculous," said Draco. "Granger and Weasley were in Diagon Alley yesterday, you know."

"Oh?" asked Astoria.

"Yes," said Draco. "It was thoroughly awkward. I was attempting to find _you_ a birthday present," he ruffled her hair, "and Granger came up to and asked how I was."

"Oh you poor thing," said Astoria, delicate hands leaping to her cheeks in mock concern. "How ever did you survive being subjected to pleasantries by somebody attempting to make amends with you."

"But why would she _want _to?" groaned Draco. "I've been nothing short of horrible to her, I don't want to speak with her and I'd assumed she hated me. I mean, she punched me in the face back in third year and-"

"She _punched_ you?" Astoria's laughter rang out clearly across the wide, grass covered grounds of Malfoy manner as she moved away from Draco and rolled around on the ground. "That's how you broke your nose? Goyle told me it was from fending off werewolves in the Forbidden Forest!"

"Oh, sod off," muttered Draco. He rolled his grey eyes. "You haven't laughed at me this much since I got turned into a ferret." This only seemed to increase Astoria's hysterics as she began pounding her fists against the ground.

When her fit of cackling had finally subsided into quiet giggles Astoria grinned and lay back in the soft grass. As she stared up at the bright blue sky she said, "Why didn't you ever talk to me at Hogwarts, Draco? We've always been such good friends outside of school."

"Um," Draco scratched the back of his head. "I did, didn't I?"

Astoria rolled over onto her stomach and stared at him. "No."

"Yes I did," he said. "In first year we went to the library together."

"Once," said Astoria.

"Um…" said Draco. "I went down to the lake with you in June of second year?"

"Twice."

"Uh… In third year I stopped to talk to you in the halls to invite you over to my house for Christmas?" He grinned hopefully.

"That's only because Daphne was being insufferable again and you didn't want to talk to her." Astoria pursed her lips sourly. "Fine, then. Three times."

"In fourth year I…" Draco trailed off. "I tried to talk to you and you wouldn't speak to me."

"I was mad," she said shortly.

"Why?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"You asked Pansy Parkinson to the Yule Ball!" Astoria sat up and crossed her arms. One of the straps on her red, button up top slipped off of her shoulder, but she made no move to fix it. "What did you expect?"

"I tried to talk to you before I did that!" Draco stopped. "Wait… You were mad because I was taking Pansy?"

Astoria ignored his question. "No you didn't! Daphne told me that the two of you were going together and as annoying as my sister is she wouldn't lie to me." Astoria paused. "She also wouldn't gain psychic abilities out of nowhere."

"I _told_ your sister that if the girl I fancied didn't want to go with me Pansy and I were going to be at the ball _as friends_," said Draco drawing out the 's' on friends for a little longer than necessary. "You were mad because I was taking Pansy?"

Astoria ignored him a second time. "Who were you going to ask?"

"Who did _you_ go with?" Draco countered.

"Ernie Macmillam," said Astoria flatly. "You were to busy shoving your tongue down Parkinson's throat to notice. Who were you going to ask?"

"That's hardly fair," said Draco. "It wasn't a date, I was listening to her go on about Crabbe all night." He felt a sharp stab of loss when he thought of his dead best friend, but was careful not to betray it. "You went with _Macmillam_? I'm surprised the Great Hall was big enough to fit his head!"

"Ernie was nice!" Astoria defended. "Now tell me who you wanted to go with!"

"Tell me why you were mad I went with Pansy," Draco countered.

"No!"

"Alright," said Draco. "Then neither of us are learning anything today." He removed his shoes and socks and then stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Draco," said Astoria. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm going swimming," he said simply and dropped his shirt on the ground. "Like we used to when we were little."

"But-" Draco ignored her and walked towards the river, jumping in with a splash. "Draco!"

"What?" he said after he resurfaced, relaxing into the icy cold water around him.

"You- shirt- but-" Astoria spluttered as she turned steadily redder and redder.

"Come again?" asked Draco. "You'll have to be more clear, Ms. Greengrass. I can't quite understand you."

Astoria glared at him and then stood up removed her shoes and launched herself into the water, curling up into a neat cannon ball and thoroughly re-soaking him. She came up to the surface as he was still coughing up water and said (with a little bit of difficulty as she had never been particularly tall and had to stand on tiptoe to touch the bottom and keep her chin above the water at he same time), "Hah."

"You jumped into the water in your dress clothes?" asked Draco incredulously.

"Well," she said snappily. "I don't know if you've realized, but I am female and as such, I am not at the liberty to rip off my top at any moment I should so choose."

Draco became a rather dark shade of crimson and muttered a simple, "Ah."

"Yes," said Astoria.

They stood they're awkwardly for a few moments before she suddenly lunged forwards and knocked him backwards into the water. They came up spluttering and coughing with Astoria still clinging to him and Draco said, "What the hell was that for?"

"You were," Astoria coughed a little, "being boring." She tightened her arms around his neck so that she was holding onto him for support and her feet no longer touched the bottom and Draco was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that she was pressed up against him and her head was resting on his shoulder.

"Boring?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," Astoria. "Absolutely dull. You really don't know how to carry a conversation, do you?"

"Oh come off it," he pulled back from her incredulously (and a little reluctantly), so that she was once again barley standing with her head above water level. "What was I supposed to say to that?"

"You could tell me who you wanted to ask to the ball," Astoria suggested cheerily.

He stared at her.

"Whatever, Draco," she said, moving towards the edge of the river and climbing out.

"Hey!" said Draco as she picked her shoes out of the grass. "What are you doing?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and put her hands on her hips. Her hair was sopping wet and hung flatly on her head and the water had made her clothes unbearably clingy. "I'm going inside." She bent down and resumed placing her cherry patterned flats onto her feet as Draco jumped out of the water.

"Why?" he asked standing next to her.

"Because I'm cold," said Astoria, "and also, because I want another chocolate-chip cookie. Your house elf is a genius." She stood on tip toe and kissed him on the cheek. "Bye, Draco," she said, before pulling back, turning around and skipping towards the house with her hands swaying about her in a most undignified manner that reminded him a little bit of a pixie.

He stood there stunned and then before he could lose his courage shouted, "Hey, Greengrass!"

She stopped and spun round. "Yeah?"

"I was going to ask_ you_ to the ball," he called. "Why were you mad I took Pansy."

She flashed him a grin. "_I _was going to ask _you_ to the ball." She turned round and begun walking away again.

Draco stared at her for about fifteen seconds and then yelled, "Astoria!"

"Yes," she called, without stopping this time.

He shook his head a little and sent little, water droplets flying everywhere. "Go out with me?"

She paused in her tracks and then turned, smirking, a hand on her hips. "Yes, Malfoy," she laughed. "I will go out with you."

"Oh," said Draco, trying to contain his grin. "Great!"

"Goodbye, Draco," she said, waving and then sauntered back towards the house without another word.

Draco waited until he was sure there was nobody within earshot before letting out a little whoop and grinning like an idiot. He _so_ had something to write about.

* * *

**Alright, so, cheese and fluff aside, that was my badly written Prologue. Hopefully the rest of these (the ones with Rose and Scorpius) will be better and what not.**


	2. In Which Rose Hates Fourth Years

**Chapter 1**

"Don't even think about it, Scorpius," Rose hissed as her best friend stared up at the mistletoe that had been hung in the common room by some very cheerful, bubbly, holiday-spiritish fourth year girls that Rose Weasley was currently trying to work out how to curse.

"Think about what?" Scorpius smirked and blinked his grey eyes innocently.

"Whatever it is you're thinking about doing," Rose said, leaning farther into the comfortable red, arm chair and propping her feet up on the table. "I don't trust you."

"But I have an idea," he whined pitifully.

"Yes, well, I often hate your ideas," Rose told him with a smile. She leaned over and began rummaging through the grey school bag beside her chair. "Have you seen my new book?"

"Check the front pocket," said Scorpius airily, lying down on the couch. "It's usually where you stow your stuff when you don't want McLaggen to notice you with it."

Rose became a lovely shade of red that matched her straight, scarlet hair quite well. "Shut up. Nobody likes you."

"No, but you seem to like _him_," Scorpius jerked his head towards Jeffery McLaggen, the tall, blond-haired Quidditch captain, "a little too much."

"I do not."

"You do."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"I'll have you know that I happen to like someone else entirely," Rose said with air of someone discussing the weather. "Though he is equally git-like."

Scorpius frowned. "Why didn't you tell me you liked someone?"

Rose threw a pillow at him and pulled out a book that said _The Great War_ in spiraling golden letters across the front of it's black, leather cover. "It didn't come up."

"…Are you reading my dad's new book?"

"If by that you mean the advanced copy that Mr. Malfoy sent me in the mail this morning then yes." Rose opened the book on her lap and directed her ocean blue gaze to it's pristine, white pages. "Yes, I am."

"It's times like these where I wish you and my father didn't get along." Of course Rose ignored him in favor of her novel and the blond boy sat up disgruntled. "Fine, I'm going to go talk to Marjory Wilkins. She appreciates me."

"She appreciates your six-pack," Rose muttered as she turned a page of her book. _People have come to know of Harry Potter as the greatest war hero, but that is a biased opinion. This book is also entirely biased, as I'm sure you have noticed, but I would like to point out that Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-Weasley (see chapter seven) played just as large a role in the destruction of Voldemort, as did Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, who lead an in-school rebellion right under Amycus and Alecto Carrow's- _

"Rose that was the part where you were supposed to say, 'Please don't leave me, Scorp. I will miss your company ever so much.'"

"You're father's a great writer," she told him nonchalantly. _–godfather was Sirius Black. A man whom much of the world still believes was a death eater, actually escaped from Azkaban and rejoined the Order of the Pheonix (see chapter three) in order to aid in Voldemort's downfall-- as a result he was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange (see chapter nine), who was in fact, my aunt. (I never liked her. Once gave me a dead cat for Christmas.)_

_Yes, all of these people were great, war heroes (except Aunt Bellatrix. She was just a lunatic). Then we come to my side. The Death Eaters' side. _

_Well, that was a right bit of fun, if I do say so myself. I got to have a hideous tattoo branded on my arm that would cause quite a pleasant burning sensation whenever someone needed to communicate with anyone else. I got to cower in terror as the 'Dark Lord' gave orders. I got to figure out how to murder my celebrated Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, almost stop myself, and then have my potions teacher finish the job for me. I even got to pretend I had no idea whether or not Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were in my house and then get rescued by them while I watched my one of my best friends since I was born burn himself to death in cursed fire. Too bad it had to end, eh?_

"My father's going to get himself murdered," Scorpius groaned, reading over her shoulder and looking at the next chapter title _Death Eaters AKA Those Freaks in Masks Who Tried to Murder Everybody_.

Rose looked up at him, concern written all over her face. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he's gone and written a book naming every death eater," Scorpius said. Rose blinked. "_Every _death eater, Rose. Even the one's who didn't get sentenced." Rose stared at him. "Wand wielding, curse shouting, psycho, robed, mask-wearing, angry lunatics?"

"Oh."

"Yes 'oh'," said Scorpius, sighing heavily. "I swear to Merlin, that man is going to get himself killed someday."

Rose stared at him. "Sometimes," she said, "I wonder which one of you is the father, and which one is the child."

"And what on Earth is that supposed to mean?" demanded Scorpius, his mercury eyes narrowing.

"It is supposed to mean that I find you all too paternal on occasion," said Rose turning a page. "You're fifteen, Scorpius. Enjoy yourself."

"I enjoy myself!"

"You do?" asked Rose, raising an eyebrow, but returning her gaze to the book. "Really now?"

"Yes!"

"Like when?"

"I pull pranks all the time," said Scorpius.

"That's malicious and I refuse to count it as a form of amusement in any way shape or form." Rose trailed her finger along the line she was reading, pressing down lightly on the little black characters.

"Oh, come on!" Scorpius said throwing himself at the foot of her chair with his back resting against the board beside her legs. "What about Quidditch?"

"What about it?" asked Rose.

"I'm a beater."

"You are."

"That's a form of entertainment!"

"Oh, fine," Rose sighed. "Now shut up and let me read."

Scorpius smirked and ruffled his blond hair triumphantly, shifting so that he leaned up right against her legs. Rose tensed a little, but didn't move from her spot.

They stayed like that in quiet for about twenty minutes until Scorpius said, "Rose. I'm bored."

"That's lovely, Scorpius," she replied, turning the page of her book. There was a fantastic shot of young Draco Malfoy on the cover and Rose was thoroughly enjoying it. He was around fifteen in the photo and was depicted sitting at Malfoy manner laughing with a pretty brunette who was also her age. The caption underneath read _Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass, August 13, 1995_. Rose smiled at the image of young Mr. Malfoy. He looked almost exactly like Scorpius.

"Well, fix it," whined Scorpius, jumping to his feet and dragging Rose out of her chair. "You can finish that later, I'm reading mine tonight."

Rose sighed and put her book down on the wooden table, allowing Scorpius to drag her away from it and towards the center of the common room. "There," he said, "Now you can't ignore me."

"Yes," said Rose, who's eyes had strayed upwards to a seemingly innocent little plant with white berries on it that was hanging above their heads. "I suppose I can't."

"What?" asked Scorpius looking up. His eyes focused on Rose's dilemma. "Oh, hey, mistletoe."

"That's- um-" Rose stuttered. "Yes, well. It's a plant."

"Yeah," said Scorpius. "Most leafy things are."

"Right," said Rose. "Let's just move-" She made turn around and pull Scorpius in the other direction, but found that her legs were rooted to the spot. "I can't go anywhere!"

"Really?" said Scorpius cheerfully. "It must be enchanted."

By now a few of the students had noticed them and some of the fourth years who had put up the beastly little shrubs were looking thoroughly confused. "The mistletoe's enchanted?" Rose heard one of them say. "Did we do that?"

Rose's cheeks began to color as Scorpius smiled at her innocently. "Rose, you look terrified."

"Do I?" she asked. "How strange?"

"It's alright," he said. "We wont be stuck here forever. I've seen enchanted mistletoe before."

"You have?" Rose asked.

"Yeah," shrugged Scorpius. "I used to hang it up at my Aunt Daphne's parties around Christmas. It drove her insane, but I think my mum was proud of me."

Rose's laugh was high-pitched and unnatural. "Really?" she squeaked. "How funny. So, would you- that is, do you know how to get out of it?"

"Yes," said Scorpius.

They stood there in silence for a minute until Rose said, "Um, Scorpius. Now would be good."

"Alright," Scorpius laughed and then leaned forwards and pressed his lips against hers. Rose froze for a moment and then her eyes fluttered shut and-

Scorpius pulled back. "There," he said stepping away. "You can move now."

"What? Oh, right," Rose jumped away from the mistletoe a little to quickly and resisted the urge to put a hand to her tingling lips. _I need my book,_ she thought. _I need my book, right now._

Scorpius laughed and then grabbed her hand again and dragged her to the portrait hole, pushed it open and then climbed through it. "Come on, Rosie!"

"Um…" Rose climbed through after him and once through, spent an inordinately long time dusting her jeans free of dirt while avoiding looking Scorpius in the eye.

"So," said Scorpius. "Are you coming to watch my Quidditch in January?"

Rose raised an eyebrow and glanced up at him quizzically. "Yes?"

"Good," smiled Scorpius. "It's against Slytherin. It'll be interesting."

"Oh," said Rose, forcing a grin. "Make sure not to kill my brother when he gets the quaffle will you?"

"I'll try," said Scorpius. "But if Hugo Weasley ends up dead then I take no responsibilities." He smiled leisurely and began walking down the corridors towards the marble stair case.

* * *

Rose and Scorpius made their way down to the kitchens after a short debate on which direction to take (which mostly consisted of things like, "It's faster to go past the Hufflepuff common room", "There's always prefects in that corridor", and, "Shut up, you snogged Zabini") and stopped outside the portrait of a fruit bowl. Rose leaned forwards and tickled the pear and the yellow fruit giggled and swung the portrait forward to reveals the warmly lit stone kitchen with many house elves in various strange and mismatched garments bustling around the room rolling doe and squeezing oranges for breakfast the next morning.

"I've always found that disturbing," said Rose quietly.

"What?" asked Scorpius. "The fact that our butter is made by tiny, elvish things dressed up like the Mad Hatter?"

"No," said Rose. "That the pear giggles. It's like Zabini possessed it or something."

Scorpius' mouth twitched into a smirk. "Why do you hate her so much?"

"Because," said Rose, "she's unpleasant."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Name one thing she's done to you."

Rose opened her mouth then shut it, then opened her mouth, then shut it. Finally she settled with. "She always glares at me when I walk past her in the halls and when you two were dating she completely ignored me. If she hates me, why shouldn't I loathe her back?"

Scorpius snorted.

"Why do you hate McLaggen so much?" countered Rose.

"He's a stuck up idiot who can't see past his own nose."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Name one thing he's done to prove that."

Scorius stared at her. "Touché."

"Thank you," said Rose. "I thought it was a good point too."

* * *

So, that was... yeah. XDDDD


End file.
